Modern Inspiration
In the Hampshire house where Jane Austen lived for the last eight years of her life, (now a Museum), in the drawing room, lying on antique desk is a letter written in 1797 by her father George to a publisher Thomas Cadell. In the letter, which is short and to the point, George pitches First Impressions: a “novel, comprised of three Vols. About the length of Miss Burney’s Evelina.”
Written more than two hundred years ago, George’s note is recognisable as a classic cover letter. After that bestseller comparison, he appeals to Cadell’s reputation, telling him he’s aware that “a work of this sort should make its first appearance under a respectable name”. Then, with finances in mind, he asks about the cost of publishing the book at the “author’s risk” and the prospect of any advance. Understanding his market, he doesn’t mention who the author is: his daughter Jane. The offer was declined by return of post, manuscript unseen.
First Impressions was eventually published more than a decade later in 1813 with a new title: Pride and Prejudice. The book’s first edition sold out and the first of many new editions was republished that year – when its first foreign language translation appeared in French.
I find Jane’s rejection so inspiring. Jane arrived at the house in Chawton, Hampshire, in 1809 after the death of her father, with her mother, sister Casandra and childhood friend Martha Lloyd. She also carried with her four unpublished manuscripts that included the plots and characters that had been swirling through her imagination for years.
Now living in secure accommodation, with time to write and creative supporters around her, Jane didn’t give up on her talent. She ditched one of the stories and set to work revising the remaining three. They were published as Sense and Sensibility in 1811 (under the pseudonym A Lady), then Pride and Prejudice (by the Author of Sense & Sensibility – building her brand), and Mansfield Park in 1814, the year she started writing Emma.
The parallels with a modern writing career are striking. Her journey to publication and recognition was long, uncertain, and when she arrived there, the commercial learning curve remained steep. In what seems to be a sort of equivalent of hybrid deal, she paid to have her debut published by bookseller and auctioneer Thomas Egerton, who earnt commission on each sale of Sense and Sensibility. It was a risky, but ultimately financially astute, decision.
Bearing out the observation that second novels often outshine an author’s debut, Pride and Prejudice was a smash, although this time Jane didn’t get the financial return from her work that she was due having sold the copyright to Egerton. A harsh lesson. Egerton also published the first edition of Mansfield Park before Jane, now an author with a solid track record, moved on, upgrading to influential publisher John Murray.
She published only one more book in her lifetime, Emma, in 1815. Northanger Abbey eventually saw publication in December 1817 – six months after Jane died – in a four-volume set along with Persuasion. For the first time, she is identified as the author.
It’s so telling of Jane’s commitment to her writing and her endurance that she might have begun writing Northanger Abbey, a coming-of-age tale, as early as 1798, according to the museum. Called Susan, she first sold it to a publisher in 1803 for £10, but, despite her appeals, it was never printed. Finally, in 1816, her brother Henry acquired the copyright for the same price, and she set to work revising it even though she was unwell. Like her other novels, Northanger Abbey is still in print.
While some writers might be discouraged that even someone with Jane Austen’s genius had to be so patient, so resilient and dogged to finally see her books in print. I take heart.
Her story says that the struggle to get published doesn’t necessarily say anything about the quality of your work or its validity; it’s about taste and timing and myriad of other commercial factors, as the industry has shown for centuries. Keeping going seems to be a large part of the trick to getting there.
Source: https://janeaustens.house/timeline/
Telling Our Truth
A friend says she thinks interest in memoir is so intense because current fiction fails to tell us much about the world we’re living in. She blames a narrow range of book choices, and says, as we look to books for answers and understanding, memoir fills the gap.
I think about this. There is certainly an appetite to tell our stories. Of the 25-30 writers who attend our RWC meetings, a good third have either written or are writing a memoir. Our September session is devoted to the topic and we’ve already got people eager to sign up.
I think we love to read about other people's lives to see how they think and act differently in circumstances we’ve not encountered/endured/enjoyed. We also love to see ourselves in others’ stories.
I’ve always read biography and memoir to escape into another person’s existence. And now I love to listen. There’s something special about hearing an author read their own story in audio format. I revel in the voice.
I’ve just started listening to Arrangements in Blue by Amy Key. Cindy, our RWC co-founder and memoirist, recommended it. Amy’s book is about arriving in your forties and finding you’re single. I’m intrigued, but I hesitate before I download. I’m 49, unmarried and, like many of my female friends of a similar age and partnership status, often wonder how I got to this place without a plus-one and family of my own. But I don’t want to read another book/article/tweet about what I need to do to “fix” myself to find romantic love; how to love myself more (…shudder); or, how I’m actually living my best life as a single woman approaching middle age. I don’t want to be a market segment.
But, I have questions and theories. Does Amy have the same? I begin to listen, ready to poke stop if the book gets cheesy, cringy, or self-helpy, but most of all too close to the bone, too shaming. I realise I’m scared of being seen, and what that might reveal about me
Amy is a poet, her voice is lyrical, she has a tale to tell. My fear of being exposed turns into soft recognition. I’m drawn into her story. Some parts I listen to multiple times, filtering her thoughts through my own experience. Amy’s telling a tale I know well in a way that’s particular to her. But I know that story too.
And this, I think, is the power of memoir, and fiction: the writing feels personal, it tells us about ourselves and in doing so, brings us together. Seen in another, we know the story is not just about us. We are not alone.
Paying Up
We are often asked (often with a hint of disbelief or confusion) why we don’t charge members to attend our Real Writers Circle meetings. We explain that by keeping our get-togethers free, we are holding firm to our commitment to open the community to the widest range of voices possible. We’ve done it for the first six months of meetings and plan to continue to offer a free event far into the future.
People usually nod at that response, pause, and then they say, You should at least charge for the wine/the room/a nominal fee!
Let me explain why we shake our heads.
As writers, we are spoilt for choice with paid-for courses, workshops, webinars and retreats and festivals, which serve all facets of our writing needs, from honing our craft, to pitching our novels, to demystifying the Amazon algorithm. The range of knowledge and depth of expertise available to us is astonishing. And brilliant. I’ve benefitted hugely from many of these products and services and will continue to pay to do so. But still, we aren’t going to commercialise ours.
Instead, we’re looking for external funding to support our evenings in which we connect, dig into specific aspects of writing, and listen to fresh work. In addition to simplifying the choice to attend by reducing the financial burden on writers to zero, we believe that writers deserve a little TLC.
Every novel, screenplay, poetry volume, graphic novel, short story collection, non-fiction book, or memoir that sits on our shelves represent many hours, maybe years, of work. Apart from the talent a writer is sharing with us, any of the texts above represent huge amounts of devoted time and energy, enormous commitment, difficult choices, sacrifices, a lot of failure and rejection, and significant direct and indirect financial costs.
When we buy a book, we are often not only buying the work that went into that story, but the fruits of the hard grind and lessons learned from perhaps several books before that one, books the author never got published, work totally unrecognised and unpaid for.
In the cover price (typically the cost of three cappuccinos for a paperback novel and extraordinarily good value), we’re paying for the writer’s commitment to keep going in the face of quite poor odds their work will ever be widely read. Disappointment happens all the time. For published authors, the financial return is typically tiny if non-existent – sales are unlikely to pay the author a living wage let alone meet the labour and other costs of writing a book. Yet, as readers, we continue to ask writers to take the risk of expending resources putting words on the page so that we have choice.
As readers, we love that so many books exist, that we can access a range of voices and experiences. We love to live in a vibrant literary culture full of ideas, chat and opinions about books, a world of stories and imagination. We love to be soothed and excited, informed and enriched, transported, and brought home. As English speakers, we pride ourselves on our literary canon. For that legacy to grow, writers of all backgrounds, incomes, and ambitions, need to write. And writing is hard. We encourage the broader community to invest in writers, including Real Writers Circle members, when they are published, but even more so when they aren’t.
As RWC steps into the maze of grant applications and funding documents, we will explain our case again: Our events are free so they are accessible to as many writers who want to come as possible. Writers thrive in an inspiring, fun, no-charge evening in the company of other writers as we individually navigate the ups and downs of a writing life for all our collective benefit.
Audience Engagement
By Victoria Robson
I may never meet them, but books where I feel I know the author are the ones I love best. There’s something in the tone and style of their writing that resonates with me, and at some level soothes me, I feel held by the story, irrespective of plot and the novel’s cast of characters.
When I sit down to write, one of the (many) things that hovers in the space between my imagination and the words on the page is the question: are my readers with me? Have I managed to communicate the essence of my thoughts, and have I successfully suggested enough of the things I’m holding back? Is my imagination connecting with theirs? Does anyone reading this care?
In short, do my readers and I have a relationship? And how do I cement that connection with people I don’t even know?
Big questions.
So, RWC asked an expert. For Bibi Lynch, journalist, broadcaster and Circle member, being able to connect directly with a range of discerning audiences across digital and analogue platforms is essential to her success. Drawing on her 30 years’ experience of writing and broadcast – most recently talking about sex, dating, childlessness, and midlife – she told our last Real Writers Circle how she does it.
Foremost, to engage your audience’s attention, Bibi said, you’ve got to be the real deal. You can’t hide or obfuscate. You can’t be vague, you need to be specific: don’t say you feel sad; go all the way, be truthful and say you feel utterly betrayed and want to kill someone – if you do.
Second, don’t write something you don’t mean. Honesty resonates. Have the courage to speak about things that aren’t talked about. Go there. People will respond.
And third, humour helps. It makes your point more palatable to your readers/listeners by making them feel safer.
I think all the above apply to not just non-fiction writing and memoir, but to our fictional work as well. As I mourn the end of Happy Valley, I’ve switched to watching Last Tango in Halifax to get my Sally Wainwright TV fix. As I watch, I wonder, how does she do it? How does she hook us and pull us along for the ride?
Applying Bibi’s rules, I think the answer lies at least partially in the way she draws her characters. They feel complete, honest (see Catherine and her relationship with Clare). Their traits are specific (Tommy Lee Royce’s menace) and their motives sharply outlined (Ryan – we wondered, and then we understood).
She doesn’t hold back on either plot, conflict, or emotional intensity. It’s all going on in Yorkshire. (A fatal, pyrotechnic showdown in the kitchen anyone?) She goes to places we don’t usually see in TV dramas – in her case Halifax, Hebden and Harrogate – and follows unexplored narrative plot lines (in LTIH, a romance between two people in their 70s – written a decade ago).
And, while she charts new TV ground, she’s really funny (LTIH every second moment).
Sally sets a high bar. But I think Bibi’s principles can be applied by all of us to our work as we seek to form a bond with our readers. Making that connection is so satisfying as a writer, and as a reader too.
Pivotal moments
By Cindy Etherton
Writing my memoir, The Blue Beating Heart, and working on a novel called Beware of Arkansas, have created space and the perfect circumstances in which to reflect on how much of life turns, shapes, and transforms, hinged upon a few critical moments. These can be big or small, but they change everything.
So much of life – working, eating, sleeping, loving, looking for keys, and wondering why people behave as they do – can seem routine, maybe even mundane. And yet, now and again, among the everyday, comes a moment that diverts the course of your life. Sometimes it arrives with a bang, sometimes it is revealed in a whisper.
And these pivotal moments, of course, show up in our writing. Some examples from my own life, which appear in my memoir: a kiss meant to land on the cheek missed its mark and instead brushed lips and the electric sensation thereafter couldn’t be unremembered however hard the difficulties that followed. Or, sitting in court during a high stakes trial, watching the jury listen to massive amounts of evidence from multiple witnesses, lawyers and experts and noting the exact moment when it’s clear that one fact or word has decided the verdict.
There’s more: hearing a fellow writer in a writing group talk about finding a wooden spoon that held all the poignant memories of her mother. And the man I coached whose whole life became blighted by mockery when, in a school performance, he was made to dress as a mushroom. His name was Vincenzo.
All of these moments underpin a powerful narrative and determine what happens next.
And there’s meeting Victoria in the park.
Sometimes you don’t know what’s missing in your life until you find it. And I needed someone to share my thoughts and ideas about writing with another writer. I’ve learnt so much from Victoria and she assures me she feels the same about me. With that mutual exchange in mind, we decided to widen our conversation into Real Writers Circle. If there is one thing that writers love, it’s talking all things writing with other writers. The learning and pleasure of the company we keep at RWC is deep and delightful.
At Real Writers Circle we explore themes that enrich our writing, and, hear from each other, drawing insights from our pool of expertise across forms, disciplines and backgrounds. We have so much to share. If you would like to join in our exchange, click here.
Knowing what you don't know and finding people who do
Since I've been pitching my debut novel Scrutiny I've learnt a lot about the publishing industry. And at the same time, not enough to get an agent and publishing deal. Crucially, I don't know specifically why my book – a suspenseful reading group yarn about a young British reporter fresh to the Arab Gulf seeking to expose a massive fraud perpetrated by a local tycoon – hasn't grabbed any agent's interest.
Is it the pitch, the writing, the setting, or slightly wavy genre? A question of timing, or is my novel simply not sellable? Does the market believe no one will want to read it? Maybe. I don't know. From the agents who’ve sent replies, I simply got a 'no thank you but it's all subjective.' Which I do know is industry standard, but not that informative.
While I dither and wonder what to do with that book, it is tempting to scan the plethora of services targeting eager debut authors – creative writing courses, cover letter workshops, agent webinars and one-to-ones, literary consultancies and conferences all designed to shine a light on the dark arts of publishing – searching for a fix to my dilemma: do more work and continue to pitch, or surrender?
In the past, I've paid for all of the resources listed above. They've been helpful. But, I've come to realise that the answer doesn't lie there. Since I started on Scrutiny, one thing that has kept me motivated, engaged in the process and moving forward with my writing, is talking to other writers.
Writers know about being a writer. We know about the joys and the slog. We have ideas, imagination, solutions, creative advice to share with each other, thoughts, learning. We know what it feels like to want to get our vision on to the page. We can offer encouragement, recommendations on resources, if needed, and a steer on how to approach the market. It's fun to talk to other writers, and it's comforting and inspiring. We get each other.
As a community, we have a bank of knowledge and experience waiting to be tapped. We don't always know what we know until someone else needs to know it and asks us. With this realisation, Cindy and I set up Real Writers Circle, a free, not-for-profit forum in which authors can swap writing expertise of any type, genre or form.
Since we launched in November last year, I have learned so many things, big and small about writing and the publishing world. Some nutshell snippets taken from our meetings include:
Crafting a pivotal moment is key to successful storytelling in any setting and sometimes those moments are very quiet.
You can teach a computer to write a story.
Even giants of literature have tough times. A century ago, just before TS Elliot published Wasteland to great acclaim, he was in a very dark place.
Punctuation, whether you are for or against, is fundamental.
While circle members are not sitting beside each other at our desks as we put words on the page, we do come alongside each other as we continue our individual writing journeys. Which is good news, as I've switched tack and am now editing the third draft of my enemies to lovers, small town romance set on the coast of Maine. Think Virgin River in Cabot Cove. The interim answer to my dilemma, I discovered, is to keep writing and talking to other writers.
If you would like to join Real Writers Circle, a monthly meeting in Brighton where we talk all things writing, click here.